


For the Love of God

by MorbidObscurities



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, god AU, is that even a thing?, it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 09:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17825855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidObscurities/pseuds/MorbidObscurities
Summary: Yoosung has always been a loyal follower to his god, Zen and Zen is willing to see how far his devotion for him goes.





	For the Love of God

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm back!
> 
> So, I started to write this at the end of November and started writing up the final draft in January lol, but it's finally here so I hope you like it!
> 
> As always, feel free to leave a comment! You can be as blunt as you like!
> 
> Big thanks to ddestroyaa on the Mystic Messenger Amino for coming up with the title (Sorry, I would put the actual link to the account, but I can't get it to work because I'm an idiot oof. If you know how to do this, then let me know in the comments) 
> 
> You can also find me on the MM Amino as well just search for: Oofsung☆  
> And on Tumblr (if anyone's still using it) at: morbideye

   


Herbs! -

Where are the herbs?! -

 He can’t show up to his first Offering without them, he’ll look like a right idiot! Yoosung scrambled around his room, opening and closing draws, throwing stuff off the floor around the room, looking under the bed—

Wait—

The bed—

The pillow!

He dashed over to the head of the bed, snatching the pillow to reveal the bundle of mixed (and slightly squashed) herbs tied together with a spare shoelace (it was all he could find). Holding the bundle up, he shook his head as he remembered he only put it there so it would be “easy to find”.

Yoosung took a moment to bring the bundle to his nose to inhale the distant sent of dried: mint, lemon grass, lavender, and—he could barely think of what else was in this as his mind turned to feathers in the midst of the smell. He was so enraptured in the sent that he didn’t hear Rika opening the door of his hut and stick her head through the door.  

“Yoosung!” she snapped when she noticed her cousin staring into space when he should _really should be getting a move on right now._

“Ah!” Yoosung shrieked and turned around to see Rika dressed in her usual light brown dress underneath her magenta cape with gold patterns.

“We’re going to be late! Hurry up!” She snapped again.

“Okay, sorry!” Yoosung’s panicked mind managed to get him to say before dashing around the room looking for his cape this time. Rika sighed, watching him run around like the floor was on fire. She stepped into the hut and folded her arms.

“What is it now?” she said agitated, but trying to sound reassuring.

Yoosung was still looking around the place, but not fully taking in his surroundings, causing him to do multiple double takes. “My cape!” he gasped. “I can’t find my cape!” the panic had fully caught up with him, making him breathe sporadically.

Taking one last look outside to see people starting to make their way into the woods, Rika stepped inside the hut and closed the door. “Where did you last see it?” she asked.

The blond boy didn’t even turn to look at her as he fumbled around in his wardrobe. “I don’t know! I thought I had everything ready—I swear—but I woke up late and couldn’t find anything and--”

“Yoosung,” Rika grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him to face her. “Calm down.” She looked hard into his frantic eyes. Yoosung avoided her stare and kept searching the room with his eyes. “Just take a deep breath and— “

“There it is!” Yoosung spotted his cape hanging on the door Rika came through and rushed over to it. It had been carefully washed for the special day and the silk shimmered in the light. He hugged it briefly before putting it on over his tunic.

Rika rolled her eyes and handed Yoosung his herbs. “Ready?” she asked as a relieved smile formed on her face.

“Er, yeah, I think so…” after fiddling with the edge of his cape a bit, Yoosung’s voice trailed off and he looked to the floor scratching his arm.

Rika noticed his posture and held his hand. “You’re going to be great.” She reassured him. “Zen will think you’re great.”

Yoosung’s heart fluttered at the thought of making their god happy, but only nodded at Rika’s words and smiled at her. “Yeah, let’s go.” His voice was a little shaky and he took a deep breath to collect himself.

They left the hut together and walked with the last of the followers who were hurrying out of their huts and checking the position of the sun in the sky. Rika let Yoosung walk briskly to let out his nervous energy (even if it was starting to tire her out).

“Did you pray with them every day?” Rika asked, pointing at the herbs in Yoosung’s hand as leaves started to crumble under their feet.

“Yeah, I know it’s not necessary, but I really wanted to put a lot into this to please him.” Yoosung said as a smile started forming on his face. Rika had always admired Yoosung’s passion for their god.

“Remember, you’re not just doing this for Zen, you’re doing this for the community as well. When Zen is happy good will comes to all his followers.” She reminded him.

“Of course—I mean, you were the one who taught me that looking after people can be just as rewarding as looking after our god.” They smiled at each other and Rika could see that Yoosung had settled down more.

Figures in capes were dotted around them in the woods all heading in the same direction. Some of them spotted Yoosung amidst the trees and wished him luck. Warmth spread through him, dissolving his nerves at his fellow follower’s words. It made him realize just how lucky he was, being surrounded by such a supportive tribe.

Finally, they reached the centre of the woods and joined the other followers who were gathered around a small hill. Towering over the disciples stood a breath-taking statue of Zen. Yoosung always wanted to see it up close as it bought a sense of peace to him since each tribe had its own statue. Since moving from his parent’s tribe when he was eighteen to gain his independence (as most of Zen’s followers did), the statue made him feel like his family was still connected to him wherever he went.

Everyone raised their hoods above their heads as that week’s Coordinator took her place at the top of the hill, in front of the statue. Yoosung tried to remember her name—Jaehee, was it? Her shoulder length hair peaked out from underneath her hood as she smiled at the statue briefly and then at the followers in front of her.

“Welcome back, everyone. I am so glad to see you all continuing to show your devotion to Zen by coming to these Offerings.” Her smile glowed at her words.

 Although Yoosung had heard variations of this speech before, he always felt warmth in his heart at the words. He felt it stronger on this day, since he was chosen by the Oracle to lead this ceremony.

“So, without any further any ado, could Yoosung Kim come up here please?” Jaehee said and beckoned Yoosung onto the hill.

Yoosung took a quick look at Rika, who gave him a proud smile, and made his way up the hill.

He drew closer to the statue like a fish heading towards one of the glass walls of its tank; staring at a world he could see but not touch. The strong arms of the statue were welcoming but authoritative. Yoosung could always feel them guiding him towards the right path, and could feel the safe warmth in them at night. The light from the sun created a faint shadow under the cheekbones of it and made the almost arrogant pose it was holding to keep his toga in place more defying. Almost a step away from the Zen statue, Yoosung nearly forgot how to breathe; the beauty of it was mystifying. If this was just an imitation of the god, he couldn’t even imagine what the deity actually looks like.

He kneeled before the chiselled beauty, closing both hands around the herb bundle as he tried to speak clearly in front of the impressive sight before him. “Oh, Zen, we have come to cleanse your pores and enrich your skin with our Offerings as you have enriched us with life.” Yoosung dropped the herbs into a small bowl between him and the statue and stood up. Jaehee then walked over to the bowl and placed cucumbers, coconut oil and tea leaves into it. “May your beauty shine brighter with each passing day.” Yoosung continued as a man around his age with red hair and gold eyes stood next to him with a flaming torch. “Amen.”

“Amen.” The tribe repeated.

The red-haired man put the torch to the bowl were the items burst into flames. Yoosung closed his eyes and took in the heavenly sent that burned in the air. Before he could even exhale, something hit him like a punch to the stomach. Weirdly enough though, it was like a small firework of pleasure. It made his head spin and made his knees weak. He stumbled backwards and the red-haired man had to grab his arm to keep him from falling off the hill.

“Whoa, are you alright?” he asked. Yoosung saw his flushed face and dilated pupils reflected in the man’s yellow and grey rimmed glasses. His head felt like birds were swarming around in circles inside of it as Jaehee came to the other side of him to keep him steady. Shocked gasps echoed from the crowd around him, he couldn’t focus on any of their faces except the stoic, stone one before him.

The feeling in his stomach dispersed into tingles all over his body and he collapsed to his knees, taking shallow breaths.

 _“Do I take your breath away?”_ a voice whispered seductively in his head. Everything went black.

*

_“Yoosung? Yoosung?”_

Two red lights against black intruded the blond’s vision.

_“Yoosung!”_

No—were they orbs?

_“Yoosung, please, wake up!_

Eyes?

_“Yoosung…”_

The red eyes faded to familiar green ones and his usual woodland surroundings returned to him; fully focusing on Rika staring over him. She let out a breath in relief.

“Thank Zen, you’re okay!” she said.

Yoosung clutched his head with his hands as the spinning woodland around him came to a halt. He noticed that he had been moved to a section of the woods slightly away from the hill, lying on the crunch of leaves and twigs with his head cushioned on a spare cape.

Just as he sat up, the man from earlier appeared in front of him.

“Yoosung, right? Are you okay?” he grabbed his shoulders. 

“Saeyoung, give him some air!” Rika pulled him back. The man—Saeyoung—apologized and sat on the ground next to Yoosung, Rika on the other side.

“So, what happened?” Yoosung asked.

 “I don’t know, you did the ceremony fine, but then you started stumbling around, really dizzy and fainted.” Rika explained as the memory became clearer.

“Yeah, I thought you were gonnna fall down the hill.” Saeyoung piped up. “What happened?”

Yoosung shook his head, not ready to believe the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “I don’t know, I just…” he paused trying to find the right words. “felt something…”

“Felt something?” asked Rika.

“Yeah, the initial feeling hit me hard, but it felt… good? I don’t know…” his voice trailed off. There was no way he could describe this.

“Was it him?” asked Saeyoung.

“What?” Yoosung breathed.

“Was it Zen?” Saeyoung clarified. Before Yoosung could say anything, Saeyoung spoke again. “Some people say that they feel his presence for a moment so strongly that they pass out.”

“Really?” Rika piped up. “I heard that that happens sometimes, but I thought they were doing it for attention.”

“I didn’t do it for attention, I swear.” Yoosung reassured.

“Of course not, you would never do something like that.” She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

“Did he say anything?” Saeyoung asked. “Some people say they could hear him.”

Yoosung thought back to that moment: the chorus of “amen”; the heat from the touch stroking his cheek; the pretty scent in the air; and then….

_“Do I take your breath away?”_

Neck flushed and eliciting a half-gasp-half-shriek, Yoosung covered his mouth as the feeling came back. His breath got heavier and he felt as it he was going to faint again.

“Yoosung?” concern was woven into Rika’s voice. The second she put her hand on his shoulder the feeling subsided and Yoosung snapped his head towards her.

“What?” he breathed again, mind in a mist.

“I think you should get some rest.” Saeyoung suggested.

“No, I--”

“Good idea.” Rika interrupted. “I’ll take you back to your hut, Yoosung.” She held his arm to help him up. Too weak to stand, Yoosung could only sleepily protest.

“I need to stay for the ceremony.” He insisted, clinging to Rika like he was drunk.

“Don’t worry about that Yoosung, I’m sure Zen will understand. Saeyoung called after him.

*

Water engulfed the young blond’s face. He stared up at his rose-coloured cheeks in the mirror after washing away the evidence from moments ago off his hands. Guilt hung over him like a shadow. He couldn’t help himself. Once Rika left him alone in his hut, the feeling from earlier started again; getting painfully stronger this time. He couldn’t control it. It just felt so good to touch, so good he didn’t want to stop himself.

The reflection in the mirror stared at him in what seemed like an accusing glare. He lowered his head to his sinful hands in the sink and placed them together in prayer. He didn’t know why, it wasn’t like there was any rules about what he just did, but it seemed conceited thinking about his god whilst he was doing it.

_But why did it feel so right?_

“Amen.” He whispered and slumped out of the bathroom, head hanging.

“Wow, it worked like a charm!” a smug voice rang from the bed.

Yoosung screamed and looked up to see a beautiful man lying in a suggestive pose on the bed. He stumbled back against the wall at the piercing colour of those teasing, red jewelled eyes.

The man was—no, it couldn’t be—he had to be dreaming! He closed his eyes and pinched his arm.

The man walked up close him, lips brushing against his ear as he spoke. “What’s wrong? Don’t you recognise me?” the man asked in the same tone as before. Yoosung’s eyes were still closed. “I mean, I have no real form, but this is how people picture me isn’t it? Long hair tied back, rippling abs,” the man got closer to Yoosung’s ear. “wearing nothing but a toga.” He whispered lowly and chuckled.

Yoosung squeaked and scurried away from him, eyes now wide open. “But you’re—you’re—” Still not being able to believe it, Yoosung couldn’t get the name out.

“Go on, say it.” Zen teased again. “ _Say my name_.”

The blond didn’t move from shock. Zen bust out laughing, realizing he had gone too far. He marvelled in Yoosung’s cute, blushing face. _Worth it._

 “Aww… I’m sorry, did I scare you?” he wanted to say with concern, but couldn’t help the smile creeping on his lips. Zen backed away to sit on the edge of the bed, letting Yoosung take the scenario in.

Hands over his face, Yoosung peaked through his fingers at the god sitting atop his slightly scrunched up sheets where he had done _that._ He turned away.

“Z-Zen, can you s-sit somewhere else?” Yoosung stuttered.

“Why? It’s not like you did anything wrong.” Zen assured, the playful smirk strangely replaced with a warm smile.

“Y-you know what I—no—you _watched?!_ ” Yoosung shrieked, voice finally coming back to him.

 “Yeah.” He said bluntly

Yoosung’s fingers covered his eyes again.

“I was hoping you’d do that.” He added.

“What?”

The god shrugged casually. “I always reward those who pray with those herbs each day they have them with that feeling you felt at the ceremony. But you were just so cute, I didn’t want to stop there.” He leaned forwards towards Yoosung. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Far too flustered to admit, Yoosung turned away; his forehead against the wall. No matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind, the feeling resurfaced again. His hands clutched his sides so his arms were over his abdomen where a coil was tightening. He remembered the way his lustful hands roamed his own body—pleading with his god— _pleasing his god._

A now familiar breath fanned his ear again. “Well, Yoosung? Did you enjoy yourself?” Zen asked again in that signature whisper.

The way Zen said his name made him whimper. He needed Zen to do something to him. Anything. The anticipation was killing him.

“Yoosung? Did you?” the breath on Yoosung’s ears moved down to his neck.

“Yes…” Yoosung shuddered.

The breath on his neck got hotter and he was soon rewarded with the soft touch of lips locked onto it. Yoosung let out a sigh in relief as Zen wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. Yoosung gasped at the lack of air getting to him with both Zen and his own arms around his stomach, but he didn’t want Zen to let go. The white-haired-god trailed small kisses up Yoosung’s neck making him moan and lift his head to give him more access. He let out a high-pitched gasp when Zen started sucking on a spot on his neck and tracing his bottom lip with his thumb whist cupping his chin.

Tingles sprinkled on Yoosung’s lip where Zen’s thumb was. Sighing, Yoosung’s head was gently pulled back onto Zen’s shoulder. Zen could stare at those gazed-over purple eyes pleading silently forever, but his lip under his thumb was so…tantalizing….

Inching his face closer to Yoosung’s, they breathed in each other’s warm breath. Before they could close the gap, Yoosung spoke. “I-I’m not worthy.” But his breath was heavy and needy.

Zen stared into his eyes with a look that was softly fierce. “I’m the god here; I decide who’s worthy.”

Yoosung bit his lip to try to silence the escaping groan from his throat at the god’s assertiveness. The noise stirred Zen onwards, his blood pumped faster around in his human body form.

“Now, show me how much you love your god.” Voice deep and stern, but coming through smirking lips, Zen held the back of the other’s head as he locked their lips together.  Yoosung grasped his hands in Zen’s hair to pull him closer. Zen moaned at the tug of the desperate hands in his hair.

Their lips smacked together intensively as Zen turned Yoosung around to face him and push him against the wall.

Zen’s tongue entered Yoosung’s mouth, causing the purple-eyed-mortal’s mind melt. Yoosung curiously slid his tongue together with Zen’s, making them both moan into each other’s mouths.

Yoosung eventually had to pull away for air and leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling and taking huge gulps of air. Zen created a path of kisses up to the spot of Yoosung’s neck that he was sucking on earlier.

Before Yoosung could even wonder how Zen hadn’t stopped for breath yet, an uncontrollable moan burst out of his lips as Zen sucked harder on the sensitive skin on his neck. Zen hummed against whilst he ran his hands up Yoosung’s back, underneath his tunic. Yoosung wrapped his arms around he god’s neck and moaned again.

He never wanted Zen to stop. He felt so good—

“Yoosung?” a voice sounded from outside the door.

“Rika!” Yoosung gasped.

Zen smirked up at him and let go and let go, leaving Yoosung to nearly collapse to the floor with weak knees.

Rika knocked on the door. “Yoosung, I’m coming in.”

Mind racing, Yoosung ran to the door. “Wait a second!” he cried. How could he possibly explain their god being here? What if she asks what they were doing?

Oh, no—she didn’t hear anything, did she?

His already flushed face bloomed redder when Rika ignored him and opened the door anyway.

“Yoosung, you’re supposed to be resting. What are you doing out of bed?” she asked at first sight of him.

Yoosung could only mutter out incoherent syllables as he tried think of an excuse. Wait—Zen was right behind him—did Rika see him already? He darted around, but his eyes only landed the usual surroundings of his hut. No god to be seen.

“B-but—he—what?” Yoosung stuttered.

Rika sighed and grabbed his shoulders from behind him to guide him towards the bed.

“You really are out of it. Your face is all red.” She commented concerned, feeling his forehead and putting him under the covers. “And I heard some groaning noises from outside; are you hurt?”

Yoosung’s dazed state could barely comprehend what his cousin was talking about, but once he realized what she was referring to he gasped.

“Oh, no. should I get the healers?” Rika panicked.

“No—no—I’ll be fine.” Yoosung reassured; events from before tumbled around in his mind like a kaleidoscope. Did he imagine the whole encounter?

“Okay,” Rika said, her voice gentle. “Just lie down and try to get to sleep. I’ll stay with you to make sure you’re okay.”

Yoosung gave into Rika’s request and closed his eyes after taking a quick look around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of wispy white hair.  

He drifted off to the sound of Rika’s whispered prayer beside him.

_“We’ll meet again soon, Yoosung.”_

Zen’s teasing voice rang in Yoosung’s head just as he finally fell asleep.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this and I'm thinking about making it a part of a series? Idk tho.  
> oof


End file.
